South Australia, slippery when wet.

The Central desert of Australia is gravel with fine, red, powdery dust that makes a fine road surface, we hardly slowed down as we crossed the emptiness towards the legendary seasonal lake Eyre.

Being 12 meters below sea level but too hot to keep water, the shallow salt bowl in the southern center of Oz fills only when heavy rains thousands of miles north, flood south into a vast shallow sea.

In the salty waters brine shrimp manifest from the dry bottom and a ecosystem appears from the desert, feeding fish, birds and I'm sure at one point Aboriginals.

The skies had been threatening rain, but it was still warm and dry when we came across the south shore of the massive shining lake, no birds were to be seen but we drove up to its salty shore and jumped out.

As we walked out across the crunchy salt crust, squishy salty mud squelched under our feet. Ami, elf like, didn't break the salt crust, while I myself sunk into the sticky slippery mud beneath, struggling to keep up with the nimble Elf.

I waded to the waters edge, covered in stinky salty grit, only to find a ring of dead fish and locusts preserved in its briny juice.

The lake was only inches deep as far as I could see, stretching off into the horizon, like a cost-cutting Hollywood movie set; just the faint impression of an ocean.

Cleaned off we slept in the desert near a man made spring, it gushed water, creating an oasis from some deep hidden source of water, sleeping in the desert is like having your own private planet, just you, the earth and the eternal night sky.

Coober Pedy is a town built from the once used Opel mine shafts and is so dystopian it has starred in the Mad Maxx and The Pitch Black movies without any set dressing.

We slept underground in a cheep hostel room as the outback skies released their fluids, the dusty town became a flood of red muddy streaks.

In the morning the wild dogs and depressing homeless Aboriginals drove us from town back on the road, but the rain had left its mark on the desert and cars began to pass us covered in red mud.

Having the biggest, baddest, highest, 4X4 on the roads made us shrug at these lesser vehicles as they wallowed past in the slippery red mud.

We slipped and skidded along slowly but suddenly we saw something you don't see much in the remote outback, a slight incline. This granny slope was covered in pure grease, and we slid sideway, more than we moved up hill, the mud flew and the Land Cruiser wiggled up towards the tiny summit.

It took almost an hour to get enough speed up to cross the verge and just as we conquered the bump an ancient, rusty Land Cruiser with panels missing and what appeared to be three dogs driving, blasted past at 80kph, in a tornado of mud and diesel smoke. We had been schooled!

Once back onto paved road the condition signs had their lights flashing, the road was closed behind us and we would have to stay on the paved roads once again. We refueled and a looked out across the muddy desert plains, the Toyota was made for such terrain and once delivered it will be crossing more than 1800Ks offroad, Chris is going to have a blast!

South Australia, Heaps good.

With the great dry continent of Australia receiving sprinkles of rain, we turned north from our coastal path into the rusty interior.

As we grunted along the trees thinned into scrub and old worn down mountain ranges appeared on the horizon like the carcases of melting ice sculptures.

We had been lured into the famous Flinders Ranges by the recommendation of so many a retired caravaner, between sighs at our comparative youth and complaints of the nasty Australian Winter.

We drew out a dusty path heading in a triangle, first northeast into the real outback, then across a dirt road to Coober Pedy, before returning south to resume our costal pilgrimage.

We knew we would be venturing off the paved roads onto the dirt tracks whose condition depended on the weather, or lack of and we had been under a dark cloudy ceiling for days now.

As we wound through the beautiful Flinders Ranges, the postcard landscape crinkled and folded from West to East like an educational picture in a childs' science book.

Huge stripped flakes of the old countrie's crust lay stacked in rippling ridges, with a red, black and brown cross section cut away by the now dry river beds.

With the Galah's squawking the whole area felt like a prehistoric dinosaur park, and at sunset the sun casts jagged shadows across the land finishing the days displays with a grande finale.

The roads straightened out once again as the hills faded into featureless dusty plains, whose isolated pubs and truck stops make Mad Maxx look like a travelogue.

Its amazing how a few ramshackle buildings becomes a town, sitting on the flat earth, trying to ignore the stripe of pavement that bisects it and disappears in two directions of seemingly never ending nothingness; and you think you live in a small town?

We eventually found the end of the road, leaving the casual traveler on the pavement, we turned West and onto the dusty brown road towards the Opel mining town of Coober Pedy.